


Lavender Fields

by CinnamonFreckle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Hermione's Nook's Magical Vacation Manip/Writing Fest, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26111449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonFreckle/pseuds/CinnamonFreckle
Summary: When Ginny runs out on her wedding, what she needs is a break from the Wizarding World. When looking for a chance at a fresh start, who knew that Provence would be the answer?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 11
Collections: Magical Vacation Manip/Writing Fest





	Lavender Fields

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeacupNiffler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeacupNiffler/gifts).



> Thank you to TeacupNiffler for the beautiful Manip/Aesthetic. It reminded me of childhood holidays in the South of France. I hope that I have done your work justice, with this little slice of Provence, and I hope you enjoy this little piece of fluff.
> 
> As usual unbeta'd and running close to the deadline. All errors and mistakes are mine.

She had done the right thing. It was right for both of them, and she was sure that Harry would thank her for it. Well, maybe someday. 

They had both been pushed into the wedding. It was supposed to be the good news story for the Wizarding world after the war; Harry Potter marries his childhood sweetheart. The wedding planning had grown out of control, and what had originally been a small intimate ceremony, in the gardens at the Burrow with close family and friends, now resembled the society wedding of the year. The guest list had expanded to include so many officials and Ministry members that she wasn’t even sure what table her friends were supposed to be sat at for the meal.

But, as the wedding had got closer and closer she knew that they were both having doubts. She knew that Harry was too noble to put a halt to it, so she needed to be the bad guy. It just wasn’t fair to either of them to go through with it. Though maybe it would have been better if she had found her Gryffindor courage before the day of the wedding.

She had asked for a few minutes alone, and her family and friends were more than understanding, thinking she wanted to take a minute to reflect on her new life with Harry. She had taken one final look at herself in the mirror, placed an envelope addressed to Harry on the dresser, picked up her bag, and activated the portkey for the honeymoon. It seemed a shame to waste it when she needed somewhere to escape to. 

Which explained how Ginny Weasley came to be stood in the middle of a field of lavender in her wedding dress. 

She was sure that portkey would take her directly to the accommodation booked. Apparently Harry thought that arriving in a field of lavender would be romantic. As she hadn’t had time to change, she probably did make quite the romantic picture, she mused. Laughing softly to herself, she started to run towards the edge of the field, her skirt billowing behind her.

On the first morning she woke in the Chambre d’Hôtes that Harry had booked, she had been expecting a howler; alongside a flurry of owls declaring her a whore and a villain for breaking Harry’s heart. To her surprise, the room was completely silent, with no unexpected guests. She realised that Harry, noble, loyal, kind, Harry, had protected her from both the press, and from her family. She breathed a sigh of relief, and looked forward to enjoying her solo honeymoon. 

Provence in late spring was as beautiful as she had hoped. The air was filled with the scent of lavender and lemons, and the sun shone every day. She adored exploring the narrow cobbled streets of the local towns, and the french food was simply divine.

Initially when Harry had suggested taking the whole summer in Provence, she had thought it was over the top, and indulgent, but now she couldn’t have been more grateful. Provence was the perfect escape from Wizarding England. She was unknown here, and could simply relax, and work on herself and what she wanted in life.

She had taken to having breakfast in a little bakery, down one of the narrow streets in the town of Lourmarin. The croissants were to die for, and they served the best coffee in the area. The late spring air was warm enough that she could even enjoy her morning coffee sitting outside the bakery on one of their small tables.

Ginny was just dipping the last of the flaky pastry into her cappuccino, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here, Weasley.”

Turning around, stunned, Ginny looked up into the face of none other than Pansy Parkinson. 

Ginny hadn’t seen Pansy since the end of the war. There were rumours that the Parkinson family had managed to hide some of their wealth abroad, and that since coming out on the losing side, had taken themselves into exile and were travelling around Europe. Ginny, however, had barely given self-exiled purebloods a thought when she and Harry had decided on muggle France for a honeymoon. She certainly hadn’t expected to bump into Pansy Parkinson in a muggle bakery, in a muggle town, in the south of France.

“Parkinson”, she acknowledged. “What do you want?”

She had tried not to be quite so blunt, or sound quite so suspicious, but she could tell by the look on Pansy’s face that she had definitely failed.

“Can’t I just come and say hello to an old school chum.” Pansy answered, a wicked smile on her red lips.

Ginny snorted. “I didn’t realise Malfoy was here, should I say hello.” Ginny knew that one day her sharp tongue would get her into trouble, but she couldn’t help the sarcastic response. “I can’t quite remember us being “chummy” in school, perhaps you could enlighten me.”

Pansy just looked amused. “As charming as ever, Weasley.”

As she walked inside the cafe, Ginny gave a sigh of relief, turning back to her pastry. Her peace and quiet was short lived, as Pansy came out of the bakery with a black coffee of her own, and sat at Ginny’s table.

“So, Weasley,” she commented. “What are you doing in Provence?”

“Why, Parkinson, hadn’t you heard, I’m enjoying my honeymoon.” Ginny sarcastically responded.

“Oh, yes, I had heard, though you do appear to be missing a husband.” Pansy quipped, with one eyebrow raised.

Ginny realised with a start that she was enjoying the back and forth with Pansy. Pansy gave as good as she got, and wasn’t put off by Ginny’s blunt, sarcastic responses. 

“Yes, I do appear to have lost him.” A sly smile appearing on Ginny’s face, anticipating Pansy’s reaction to her next comment. “Perhaps you could replace him, Parkinson.”

Pansy smiled, and Ginny realised it was probably the first time she had seen a genuine smile on her face, rather than a sneer or a smirk. 

“Have you ever been to Avignon, Weasley?” Pansy questioned. I’ve been staying in the area a while but not yet had the chance.”

“Not yet.” Ginny smiled, “and I think you should call me Ginny.”

Their visit to Avignon had been a success. Ginny had enjoyed seeing the sites, and teaching Pansy the muggle nursery rhyme about the bridge. She noticed that Pansy continued to hum “Sur le pont d'Avignon” well into the evening. Ginny suggesting that perhaps they should have tried dancing over the bridge, to see if anything magical happened. 

Pansy had enjoyed wandering around the Palais de Papes, including the lesser known wizarding section. She enjoyed enlightening Ginny about the history of the two popes, and why there was a palace in France; divulging that one had been a wizard trying to exert his influence over the muggle world through religion. Ginny, having never found history that interesting, was fascinated by the way Pansy explained it, keeping the background information light, and focussing heavily on the gory details.

They had coffee and croissants in the little bakery every morning, where they sat and planned what they would do that day. 

Pansy had been keen to show Ginny the various vineyards, as well as other historical sites in the area. Ginny, having never travelled far before, other than the trip to Egypt at the end of her first year, was happy to be dragged along on Pansy’s whims. Together they explored the various towns and villages, each enjoying the others’ company.

Pansy had explained to Ginny that she was essentially taking an extended gap year, hoping that things would settle down a bit back in England before she returned. She had explained that she had no interest in her mother’s plan for her, a suitable marriage to a pureblood boy, and was relishing the chance to travel on her own, in relative anonymity. 

Ginny had confided in Pansy that she and Harry had felt pushed into the wedding by her mother, and that she wanted to take time to explore who she was, without the pressure of the war. She had also confided about how relieved she was not to have gone through with the wedding.

One morning Pansy suggested a bicycle ride through the countryside, ending with a picnic. Ginny had pointed out how amazed she was that Pansy wanted to do something so muggle, until Pansy had admitted that she had magically modified the bicycles. Ginny just laughed and agreed that it made getting between villages much easier when magic was involved.

Somehow they had ended up back in the lavender field Ginny had originally arrived in. In the centre of the field, were a table and chairs, that Pansy had clearly arranged earlier. In the middle of the table sat a bottle of rosé from one of the vineyards they had visited, and two glasses. 

Pansy opened the bottle, which Ginny noted, had been kept chilled perfectly. She poured them both a glass and raised hers in a toast. “To fresh starts and new beginnings”. 

Both smiled at the other, taking a sip of the wine.

“To new friendships.” Ginny replied, taking another sip.

Pansy placed her glass down, looked over at Ginny, and replied, “what if I don’t want another friend Ginny, what if I want something more?” 

At those words, Ginny positively beamed. “Why can’t we be both, friends and something more.”

Before Ginny could finish speaking, Pansy had leaned over and lightly touched her lips to Ginny’s. She moved her lips over Ginny’s tentatively, seeming seeking permission and reassurance that this was alright.

Before Pansy could pull away, Ginny had pushed back, deepening the kiss.

Pulling away from Pansy, Ginny smiled, breathing in the lavender scented air. Provence was truly magical.


End file.
